


I'm Home

by Illuvarion (LetTheShipsBurn)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cats, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Homecoming, Leaving Home, Loyalty, Pets, Reunions, Sailing To Valinor, The Noldor, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7340611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetTheShipsBurn/pseuds/Illuvarion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A promise made to a beloved companion does not go unforgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Home

Silwë adjusted the armour he had crafted, not used to being dressed in this way. He was a craftsman, not a soldier; but then, none of the Noldor were soldiers. Not yet. As a smith and a jeweler, he was unable to resist the a bit of purely decorative flourish, and the graceful but very functional breastplate was set at the chest with the eight-pointed Fëanorean star. He slipped his red cloak around his shoulders, and locked the door to his workshop.

A languid meow came from the grass by the footpath, and a big, handsome orange cat strolled out of the reeds. He stopped and regarded Silwë in the way only cats seem to be able. He knew something was afoot.

“Airwë, do not look at me that way. I will return soon.”

He picked the beast up and nuzzled his face into the soft, sun-warmed fur. Airwë began licking his master’s hair, and then his face. Setting the orange bundle down, Silwë knelt and offered his hand. The cat gave it several licks, and then rubbed his body against it; blinking his large green eyes, he looked up at the elf expectantly.

“I will be home soon,” Silwë said, giving his beloved pet one last scratch behind the ear. “I promise.”

–

The Noldor were cast, soon after, from Valinor, exiled in Beleriand following the First Kinslaying. The First Age became the Second, and the Second the Third.

In Valinor, deathless in the Undying Lands, an orange cat snoozed on a footpath. The sun fell lower in the sky, and the feline padded up the path to a disused gate. There, he waited, as day turned into dusk, as he had for all the ages before.

No one came. It would not be this day.

–

The War was won, and Sauron had been banished. The ban upon the Noldor, long since relaxed, was finally ended. Silwë, long since known as Illuvarion, was at last permitted to sail West. From the mists, as the vessel drew close to the shores of Aman, he saw for the first time in many long ages the shores and spires and forests of Valinor, his home. Tears came. He had not expected to grow this emotional.

All those many long ages behind him, when he stepped upon the shore, he cast down his belongings, and ran up a long forgotten footpath, and across a crumbling little bridge. He vaulted a gate, and stopped.

There, at the door of a long abandoned workshop, was Airwë. Waiting.

“...I’m home.”


End file.
